The Delirious Spectacle
by Mariel Nightstalker
Summary: Blaise starts the New Year off on the right foot. SLASH Blaise Zabini/Harry Potter. ANOTHER GIFT FOR NEFARIOUS.


A/N: Because I am a nice person, I wrote another thing for Nefarious.

**The Delirious Spectacle**

He had never seen so many people together in one place in his life, all crowded together shoulder to shoulder, and their arms around each other in pairs. It was New Years Day as of several seconds ago, and he was the only one in the room who hadn't found someone to share a kiss with.

His drink was empty and he suddenly desperately needed another one.

The bartender broke away from one of the serving girls to pour him a fresh glass of champagne with a smile. Blaise didn't smile back.

It was suffocating inside and noisy now that everyone had stopped kissing to laugh or squeal or joke with their friends. He headed for the balcony and found it deserted, probably because everyone had gathered inside for the countdown. Outside a bubble charm kept out the wind and added a gentle glow of warmth to what should have been a very cold winter night. He tilted his head back to look at the stars.

Boxes of ferns and hedges of red hawthorn crowded the edges of the balcony, adding color and the scents of Christmas to the evening air. He drank and looked around, actually beginning to enjoy himself. He had always preferred to be alone as a child and that hadn't changed as he got older; if he was around people for too long without a reprieve he got sullen and cross.

His glass was empty now and he rolled it between his palms.

There was a reason he had come to this party alone. Ever since he could remember it'd been impossible for him to hold down a steady relationship. His all time record was a week, and that had ended in court. The memory of it made him grimace.

His inability to commit was like a congenital defect, an inherited curse from his mother. There was more than avarice behind the mysterious deaths of her many husbands; her stamina was longer than Blaise's, but the end was the same: boredom and a desire to be free of responsibility to someone else for one's actions.

He heard the click-clack of heels on the slate and let out a frustrated breath through his nose. His need to be alone wasn't quite met, and he was annoyed that his solitude was intruded upon. He recognized the identity of his companion by her scent. He chose not to acknowledge Pansy and kept staring out at the beautiful snow-covered grounds.

Her eyes were fixed on him with enough force to make his skin feel prickly. Finally he snapped,

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you the glad-eye," her response was instant and lacking in any tell-tale slurring to indicate that her personality had been sweetened by alcohol. He turned to her with a glare.

"Well…stop it!"

She smirked, "Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Piss off, Pansy. I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood. Anyway, I came out here to offer you a kiss. I know its a few minutes into the new year already, but better late than never," she came closer and put her half-empty champagne flute on the balcony railing, slipping one hand across the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. He was partial to the precise tailoring of a truly well-made suit over the clumsy drapery of traditional robes. Her lips came to his ear and he could feel her teeth as she smiled, "Come on, what do you say?"

He shrugged her off and turned to go back inside with the full intention of going home. The doors admitted their host before he could reach them. Draco raised his eyebrows at him.

"Going so soon? You offend me. Don't you like my party?"

Blaise frowned, "Don't try to make me feel guilty, Draco. You know I hate it when you play that cheap trick." 

Draco shrugged, "It works. Pansy says you didn't get a new year's kiss and I didn't believe it before, but now I think I do. Blaise, this simply will not do. If you won't kiss her you'll kiss me. Come here."

Blaise tried to get around him but Draco danced first to the left and then to the right, blocking his path and keeping him outside; Blaise groaned and smacked his forehead into Draco's shoulder, slumping there. He liked Draco and Pansy under regular circumstances, but he was well and truly tired of other people right now and just wanted to go home and to bed. Draco put his arms around him and squeezed, laughing a little.

"Oh, Blaise, you poor little antisocial man. How are you ever going to find someone to marry if you keep this up?"

"I don't _want _to get married," Blaise sulked, his retort muffled in Draco's shoulder.

"Don't be stupid," Pansy chimed in, coming over and putting her short arms around the both of them as best as she could, "Marriage is a beautiful thing, as long as both partners understand the other's right to have affairs as they so choose. And besides, no one is asking you to get married tonight. All we want is for you to start the year off right. Kiss someone if you won't kiss us. We don't care who."

Blaise pulled his face from Draco's neck and conceded, "Fine, I will. But I won't tell you who. And once I've done it, the two of you have to promise to stop bothering me about my love life for at least a month."

"Alright. Swear you'll kiss someone first, though. We must have some hold over you, you lying reprobate," Draco straightened his collar, smiling.

"I swear."

"Off you go, then," Draco stepped aside and let Blaise beat a hasty retreat.

He waded through the crowded room of partygoers until he found the Floo. Unfortunately, his newest flat wasn't hooked up the network yet, so he was stuck heading for the nearest public exit, which was about a half a mile walk to his flat. Due to the Anti-Apparatition fields surrounding the community, he really did have to walk too.

It was much colder than he'd thought and he found himself regretting very much that he'd forgotten to bring his gloves with him. Many of the houses he passed were lit up and emitted wild shrieks of laughter or loud music. He turned up his collar and walked as fast as he dared on the icy cobblestones.

A few blocks later he was surprised and attacked by a drunken beggar with no nose. He fought him off, stunned him with a quick spell, and continued on his way. Under normal circumstances he would report the beggar but he was too tired (and a bit drunk, if we're being honest) to care.

He spent a few minutes trying to find his keys with numb fingers. Finally he found them and shoved them into the front door. There were still several flights of stairs to climb. As he went, he decided what kind of bath oil he was going to use. Tired as he was, a bath would be necessary to work out all the stiffness that the cold walk had created. He was thirty-three now and couldn't get away with the same things he could a mere five years ago. He wondered sometimes when he'd become just a man, not a young man.

Lost in daydreams of a steaming-hot bath, he bumped into someone descending the narrow steps. He lost his balance, fell, and landed hard on the landing.

"Oh god, I am so sorry! Are you alright?"

The voice was familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it. He mumbled the number of his apartment when asked and realized he was being helped up the steps to it. He handed his keys over to the stranger, not bothering to open his eyes. He'd hit his head and it fucking hurt to think now.

He was guided to his sofa and made to sit down. He obeyed and immediately rolled onto his side, curling up. His fireplace had started automatically when it became aware he was there, and the warmth from it was enough to induce a small sigh of happiness despite the agony his head was in.

He fell asleep to the sensation of an icepack being carefully laid on his forehead and the dull distant throb of his neighbor's merrymaking.

~000~

The next morning he awoke in his bed hung-over and dressed only in his briefs. A quick scan of his surroundings revealed someone asleep on the other side of the bed, on top of the covers. The stranger stirred when Blaise tried to get out of bed and rolled over. Blaise had to bite his tongue when he recognized him. After all, it's not every morning you find the Boy Who Lived in your bed.

Said celebrity opened his eyes, put on his glasses, and said, "You're awake! Thank goodness. Look, I'm very sorry about knocking you down. You've got a bruise, but I think that's all the damage I did. Is there anything I can do to apologize?"

Blaise smirked. Draco would never believe it and Pansy would die of jealousy.

"You can kiss me."

They ended up doing a bit more than kissing and at one point Blaise got a picture of them side by side, naked from the waist up, kissing. Draco fainted when he showed it to them at luncheon the next day.

~000~

End the Delirious Spectacle

I am spoiling you Nefarious. This isn't Mafia!Blaise, but that's because my writing skills are impaired by the burden of writer's block. This is as good as it gets for now.


End file.
